


The Four Innocents: A New Song

by Azalea542



Series: The Four Innocents [7]
Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: 1960's, Alternate Universe - Earth, Gen, Male Friendship, friendship better than romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 02:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azalea542/pseuds/Azalea542
Summary: The Four Innocents meet a girl who changes their lives-but not in the way you're thinking!





	1. When She Enters Your Life

WHEN SHE ENTERS YOUR LIFE

I

Wednesday, May 22nd, 1968

Driving a beat up station wagon, she arrived at the Four Innocents' house that morning, though three of the boys did not discover her until the afternoon. Danny and Timmy had gone to the park, and Matt had gone to the store. Patrick had slept in, feeling ill, but not so ill that it drew out his bandmates' overprotective instincts. The young girl stranger was in luck, for Patrick was the one she had come to meet. She and he shared the same father. And it was she, a black haired beauty named Mary Thompson,that would end up changing the lives of all four of the Innocents.

The nervous girl stood outside, her inner dialogue going crazy. _Are you sure this is where your brother lives?_

_HALF-brother._

_Half-brother. Are you sure--_

_The guy at the club said this was where the Four Innocents live._

_Yeah, Four Innocents, I know. But are you sure that Patrick Keefe kid is your half-brother? You've never met him before. And will he want to meet you? Your Dad may have loved your Mom, for what it’s worth, but he raped Patrick’s mother._

_If he doesn't want anything to do with my father, I'll understand,_ Mary insisted to herself. _Neither do I. But we've come this far, I mean, all the way from Boston..._ She rested her hand on the doorknob.

_Yeah, we can't chicken out now._

Mary almost stumbled inside, for her fidgety hand had been playing with the doorknob. "Hey, it's unlocked!" She stepped in.

_Mary!_ her other dialogue scolded. _Unlocked or not, you can't just walk in._

_Why not? He's family._ She was well inside now.

_Yeah, but he doesn't know he is yet._

_There doesn’t seem to be anyone home,_ Mary observed, sitting on the edge of the psychiatrist couch.

She was startled by a gasp coming from someone just as shocked. The girl looked up and saw a sleepy blond boy standing at the top of the stairs. "Are you Patrick Keefe?"

He nodded hesitantly. "Are you a friend of Danny's?"

Mary shook her head without recognition. "No--I'm Mary Thompson."

"Oh." Patrick remained where he was.

"Mary Thompson," she repeated emphatically, standing up. "Thompson. The name Thompson rings a bell, doesn't it?"

Patrick shrugged.

"How about Harry Thompson?"

His hand tightened on the stair railing. "That's my father's name."

"Yeah, well, it's my father's name, too." Bluntly, she continued, "You're my half-brother, you know."

"Half--" he began weakly. Deciding maybe he better go downstairs and greet his relative face-to-face, he put an unsteady foot forward, and stumbled down two steps.

Mary leaped up. "Oh, are you all right?"

"Sure, sure," he said quietly, picking himself up and making his way to the bottom. "Sister, huh?"

"Half-sister," Mary corrected.

Patrick and she stood face to face, uncertain if an embrace was appropriate. 

Finally, Patrick smiled shyly. Mary returned the grin, and extended a hand.

Patrick remarked, "This is going to take some getting used to."

"I know," Mary told him.

II

Patrick fixed lunch for the girl, and the two of them were eating when the rest of the band returned home, together after Matt had gone to the park to pick Danny and Timmy up.

"Now, this is an unexpected sight," Danny observed. "Patrick dining with a lovely young lady."

"Oh, fellas, this is my half-sister Mary."

"Half-sister?" Matt wondered. "I thought you were an only child."

"I thought so, too," Patrick said.

"I know the feeling," Timmy reminded them.

"So when did you find out about her?" Danny asked.

"This morning."

"Oh, so it's no wonder you didn't tell us about her before, then."

"I came all the way here from Boston," Mary explained. "I’m old enough now where I want to make it on my own."

The boys offered Mary use of the guest room until she found a place of their own. They ate supper together that night, and afterwards, Mary helped with the dishes.

"So, how long you boys been a band?" Mary asked.

"About two years now," Matt said.

"You play guitar, right?"

He nodded.

"I love the guitar!" she squealed, putting an arm around him to draw him away from the kitchen sink. "Can you show me how to play guitar?"

"Well, I suppose." He turned towards the bandstand.

"No, not your guitar, my guitar," she insisted. "I have my own but I don't know how to play it. It's out in the car."

"You want to be a musical act?" Danny wondered.

"Well, I always wanted to sing and maybe play in a band."

III

That evening, Mary joined Timmy and Patrick, who were sitting on the porch. 

"We probably got more out there,” Patrick said to Mary.

"Half-siblings?"

"Yeah, you never know about my father."

Timmy cocked his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's true, I suppose."

"Well--" Mary broke in suddenly, startling the two. She giggled, and put an arm around each of them. "At least you got one thing out of this."

"What's that?" Timmy asked.

"You got me."

Patrick smiled. "That's true."

"Question is, now what are we gonna do with you now that we've got you?" Timmy teased.

"You could let me sing with the band."

"We're the Four--"

"I know, the Four Innocents. That's why I said **with** the band, not as part of it."

Timmy and Patrick glanced at each other. "We'll have to all talk this over together," Timmy decided. "Matt's the bandleader, you know, and it wouldn't be fair to leave Danny out."

"So let's go get them," Mary said, heading in.

"Talk it over now?" Timmy demanded, getting up. Patrick followed him into the house.

"Now." She grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t be infringing on your tight unit. You’ll still be the Four Innocents. And I’ll be Mary. Mary and the Four Innocents.”

It was agreed; Mary could sing with the band, as long as she didn’t claim to be an Innocent herself. It wasn’t that she was naughty, but she did want to get married someday. It was a major change for the Four Innocents, and it would lead to even more changes, good and bad.


	2. The Wrong Woman

THE WRONG WOMAN

I

"Ladies and gentlemen," Matt announced from his position on the bandstand. "We have a special guest with us tonight, Miss Mary Thompson, who will be singing with us on the next couple of numbers."

The audience applauded as Mary rose from one of the tables at the front and joined the Four Innocents on stage.

She smiled and blushed as Matt made way for her. "Thank you," she said into the microphone. "For my first number I'd like to do a song made famous by the Barking Dogs a couple of years ago, 'Break the Spell'."

Mary was a success, and at closing, the Four Innocents congratulated her as they walked into the parking lot. As they conversed and laughed, Danny noticed a young couple kissing. The man was of a lean but muscular build, and the woman was a pretty blonde. Danny stared a little harder than he meant to, for they were making quite a scene of their passion. The man must have felt his stare, for he whirled around, snapping, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Danny replied hurriedly, stepping closer to his gang of friends.

II

The next night, Mary sang again with the Four Innocents as they continued their gig at the Romarama, a family Italian restaurant and entertainment attraction. Between sets, Mary wandered off to fix her hair.

It was nearing time for them to go on again, and wanting to alert Mary, the four boys entered the hallway leading to the restrooms. Danny nudged Matt, and told him in a whisper, "There's that guy again. The one I told you about last night."

Up ahead, the man Danny had seen in the parking lot was again locked in a passionate embrace with a beautiful young girl. It was a different girl. She had long black hair. "Mary?" Danny wondered, a little loudly for he was in shock.

The man confronted him again. "Listen, shrimp, can't you mind your own business?"

Danny continued to stare at the girl. He realized now it might not be Mary. Something else about her was familiar, though.

The door to the ladies' lounge opened and Mary stepped out. Danny and his three bandmates glanced at her.

"Oh, now we see our mistake," Matt broke in, addressing the hostile man. "We mistook that girl for our friend Mary."

The man squinted at Mary. "Oh, okay," he acknowledged, almost sounding reluctant at not being able to pursue the argument anymore. He put an arm around the waist of his black-haired girl. "Come on, dear."

"No, wait," she said quietly.

"Denise!" Danny cried. 

She looked back at him. "Yes, I was going to say something."

Danny turned to his friends. "It's Raven from the Rosaries, you remember her?"

"Oh, yeah," Timmy remembered.

"Who are these boys?" the man asked Denise.

"Just a band the group I was in worked with once."

"You're not in the Rosaries anymore?" Danny asked.

"No, we broke up."

"What are you doing now?"

"Oh, I'm married now," she said with a bittersweet smile. "Just like I always wanted to be, you remember?"

"Oh. Congratulations," Danny told her in a half-hearted nature.

"Come on, it's time for our next act," Matt said, and Danny was glad to be able to leave.

III

"Her husband was clearly fooling around with another woman!" Danny once again stated emphatically at home.

"I know," Matt said, sitting on the bandstand, his head in his hands. Timmy, Patrick, and Mary were also resting there.

Danny was standing, walking back and forth as he addressed all of them. "Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"What can we do?" Matt demanded. "It's a shame, I know that, but I don't think it's up to us to interfere."

"Why not?"

"We may cause more trouble than there originally was."

Suddenly, Mary straightened up, her eyes gleaming, as though she had an idea. But she didn't say anything; she just rose and walked into the guest room.

The Four Innocents watched her go, Danny shrugging.

"Look, Danny, we don't even know where she lives now," Matt pointed out.

"Well, that guy was at the Romarama two nights in a row, maybe he's a regular patron."

The man, Frank Gualtiero, as Mary found out from Denise, was the owner's nephew.

"Why don't you leave him?" Mary asked her Wednesday evening. She and Denise were sitting in front of the mirror of the ladies' lounge.

"He's my husband, not my boyfriend." Denise applied more ice to her black eye.

"But he beats you and cheats on you."

"I know."

"Well, you're not going to just take that, are you?"

"What else can I do?"

"Plenty. For one thing, I don't know where you get your standards on what is grounds for divorce, but even the Bible allows for divorce in the case of adultery."

Denise remained silent.

Mary sighed. "Well, think things over."

IV

"She won't do anything, fellas," Mary reported to her friends before their first set. "She's too afraid to make any moves."

"Better to act than to live in misery," Danny remarked.

Between sets, Mary relaxed at a table, and sipped a cola. A handsome, brown-haired man approached her. "Is this seat taken?"

Mary smiled up at him. "No, go ahead."

After sitting down, he extended his hand to her. "Hi, my name's Larry, and I enjoyed watching you sing very much."

"Thank you."

"I guess it always happens..."

"What?"

"When guys watch a pretty girl singer in concert, they always become infatuated with her--each thinking it's a one-on-one relationship between him and her."

She blushed. "Well, I don't know..."

Mary enjoyed talking with Larry, and even set up a date with him before she left to join the Four Innocents backstage. In the hallway, Gualtiero was sulkily leaning against the wall. Mary glanced at him, trying to hold back her disgust as she swiftly walked by. 

"Hey, where you going?" he asked.

She ignored him.

A second later, his heavy hand was on her shoulder, spinning her around. "I asked where you're going?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Plenty of my business. I saw you with that guy."

"Yeah, so?"

He seethed, and before Mary realized what was happening, he had hit her. 

Larry, who had secretly been drinking in every look at Mary he could, ran down the hallway, accosting Gualtiero. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm being the master of the house," Gualtiero replied self-righteously.

Larry was confused. "Of what house?"

Suddenly, Denise stepped out of the ladies' lounge. "Frank! What are you doing?"

Gualtiero glanced back and forth at Denise and Mary, and what little shame he had showed on his face. "Oh, I see," he said slowly. "I mistook you for my wife."

Larry helped Mary to her feet. "It's no excuse," he told the other man. "You shouldn't treat anyone that way, even your wife."

"Look, mind your own business," Gualtiero said out of the corner of his mouth.

"You should press charges," Larry advised Mary.

Mary looked at Denise. "Maybe you won't take action, but I will."

"You're not going to say anything about this to anybody," Gualtiero warned. Then he noticed that the scene was loud enough to attract attention. From one end of the hall, customers were staring at the two couples, and at the other end, the Four Innocents were standing by, tensed to protect Mary and Denise if need arose.

"Never mind," Gualtiero muttered in defeat, hanging his head. He walked towards the back exit. "Come on, Denise."

Denise took hold of Mary's arm. "No."

He seemed to be going to react in anger, but instead gave up, and left them alone.

The police had just driven away from the Romarama restaurant, with Frank Gualtiero in the pack of their car. Denise, Mary, Larry, Pops Gualtiero, and the Four Innocents watched on from the parking lot. 

Pops turned away in disgust. “I am not paying for his bail!”

Mary was holding an ice cube wrapped in a handkerchief. She pressed it to her eye. “Man, I hope this shiner doesn’t ruin my face forever!”

“Nothing could ruin your face!” Larry told her. 

She smiled at him. “So how many children should we have?”

Larry blushed. “I haven’t thought that far ahead!”

“I’m so sorry you got hit!” Denise cried. “That punch was meant for me!”

“And you didn’t deserve it any more than Mary did!” Danny exclaimed to her. 

“Um, look, Denise,” Matt began. “Do you need a place to stay or something?”

“Yeah, you could share my bedroom,” Mary told her.

“That’s okay. I’ll be okay on my own,” she said, not a hundred percent convincingly.

“We’ll be there to help,” Danny said. “Just call if you need anything.”

Denise smiled. There were good people on this planet after all. 


	3. You're for Me

YOU'RE FOR ME

I

"You're for me, and I'm for you," sang the Four Innocents and Mary, linking arms and practically dancing down the sidewalk. Other visitors to St. Francis Park stared at them curiously.

"Nice day to be out," Danny remarked after they had finished the number.

"Oh, it's swell!" Mary exclaimed gleefully, running a few steps ahead of them and onto the grass. Her head gazing upward to the blue sky, she spread her arms outward and spun around. 

The four boys smiled at the childlike quality of her action. She stopped spinning, and regaining her balance, giggled at them, then suddenly ran off. They took up on her cue, and chased after her.

It looked as though nothing would ruin their good day. Indeed, nothing catastrophic happened, and for Mary the day became even better, but the Four Innocents ended up annoyed.

They were heading for the ice cream stand when it happened. In sudden excitement, Mary pointed to a young man ahead. "It's him!"

"Who him?" Matt demanded.

"Larry! I met him at the Romarama." She ran up to him, the Four Innocents tagging along. 

When Larry saw her, his eyes brightened. "Mary!"

"Larry! I haven't heard from you since our date."

"I know, and I'm sorry, because I wanted badly to get back into contact with you. But you weren't playing at the Romarama anymore, and I lost your number." 

"You could have asked Pop at the Romarama," Danny pointed out.

"I didn't think of that," Larry admitted. He turned back to Mary. " **That** , believe me, is the only reason I didn't call you. I wanted to, but--"

She smiled. "It's okay, Larry. I'll give you my number, and you give me yours, as added security."

"It's nice to see you again," he said shyly. "How 'bout we go out again sometime?"

"How about now, while we're out?" Mary suggested. "Fellas, do you mind if I take leave now?"

They all casually waved her off; told her it was all right. They wanted it to be all right, but deep inside, they felt pangs of jealousy.

II

After finishing their ice cream, Matt suggested they go to the Concordia music store. Patrick agreed to this idea. "I want to hang out in the park a little longer," Danny said as nonchalantly as possible. "Timmy?"

Timmy knew his friend was dreaming up pranks to play, but currently the drummer was in too shy a mood to go along. "There's some stuff I want to check out at Concordia, if it's just the same to you."

"Okay, mate," Danny said, and bid his bandmates farewell. He walked the park's sidewalk, wondering what to do. While making his way around, he saw Mary and Larry, walking hand in hand, but they were too engrossed in each other to notice him. "Mush," he muttered to himself.

Nearing the ice cream stand again, he took new notice of a vendor selling cheap but elaborate flowered hats. They were decorated for the silliest effect possible. Danny bought one and then climbed his favorite tree, the one that had a sturdy branch that hung over the sidewalk.

Eventually, Mary and Larry walked under it, still enraptured in each other's company, and casually, Danny dropped the hat on Larry's head. He giggled to himself as he watched them continue on, Larry unaware of the frilly feminine topping he was wearing.

He told himself it was all in good natured fun, but as he laughed to himself with malicious delight, he felt guilty.

"People are staring at us all of the sudden," Mary observed a minute later.

"Yeah," Larry said, confused. All of the sudden he realized something. He reached up and removed the hat. Cocking his head and smiling in amusement, he asked Mary, "You don't suppose it has anything to do with this?"

She grinned, taking the article from him. "It does, and I know who has something to do with the hat itself."

"Who?"

"The Partners in Crime," she stated. "Timmy and Danny. They like to play tricks on park goers."

Later, they realized only Danny was guilty--they saw the other three walking along the city streets outside the park, and then, when they went to sit by the lake, they noticed Danny lying there, lulled to sleep by the sun.

"He really shouldn't leave his face bare to the sun like that, what with his fair British complexion," Mary chided, adding, "Tsk tsk." She placed the gaudy hat over his eyes, and she and Larry quickly strolled off. "There, that should keep him from getting burned."

When his three bandmates found him, Danny was clutching the hat in his hand, muttering, "Well, there's a first time for everything." It was, indeed, the first time the victims of a joke had thus avenged themselves on him, and he didn't know what to make of it.

III

The Four Innocents came back from a gig in which Mary had not participated. They found their house clean and cozy upon their return.

Sighing happily, Matt collapsed on the sectional. "You know, at first it was hard getting used to having a fifth person around the house, but now I'm getting rather used to Mary."

"Don't get too used to her," Danny warned, picking up the note she had placed upon the kitchen counter. "She's gone out again with Larry."

"Man, that's the third time this week!" Timmy exclaimed.

"Do you think she likes him?" Patrick asked.

His three bandmates glanced at him with expressions that said, "Well, of course, silly!"

"I mean, really, really likes him?" Patrick clarified.

"Like they might get married?" Danny guessed.

"Yeah, that's it."

"Well, Larry seems like a nice guy," Matt remarked. "The different times he's been over here, I ain't never heard him swear or talk about drugs or anything. And he always brings Mary home at a decent hour--I don't think they've been doing anything more on their dates that just having good, clean fun together."

Timmy sighed in resignation. "We've got to accept this possibility, fellas. They might get hitched."

Later that night, they learned they were right. Mary ran into the house, blushing with excitement. "Matt! Timmy! Patrick! Danny! Guess what? The boy of my dreams asked me to marry him!"

"I thought we were the boys of your dreams," Danny chided.

"Oh, you are, I'll always love you and treasure you forever¼”

“So you’re engaged?” Timmy asked.

“Not yet. I asked him to wait. I had to talk it over with you first.”

“If this is the right person, then I’m happy for you. But,” Danny continued. “You’ve got to think. What do you know about this guy?”

“Such as what?” Mary asked in all naïveté. 

“Well, you don’t even know his last name.”

“What’s a name got to do with anything?”

“He’s being secretive.”

“I think he wants me to trust him.”

“What’s he got that’s¼” Matt thought. “Different?”

“Different from who?”

“Um—different from us?”

“He’s got a lot of the same charms as you guys,” Mary said with a smile. “He’s warm and funny and gentle. However, _he_ is willing to get married and—need I say it—make love.”

“Ooh!” Danny exclaimed. “He’s us with a sex drive!”

“Danny,” Matt said warningly.

“You and him haven’t, you know, done it yet?” Danny asked worriedly.

“Cheeky! That’s personal business! But, no, we’ve been on our best behavior, both of us.”

All four of the Innocents sighed in relief. “What was _that_ all about?” Mary demanded.

Timmy stood up from the bandstand. “Look, if you’re willing to risk it, go ahead—but take your vows seriously.”

“This isn’t something you should back out on,” Patrick added. “Once you’ve said ‘I do’, that is.”

“Oh, I know,” Mary said. “I’m not taking this gamble on the pretense I can back out with a quick divorce if things go wrong.”

Timmy sat back down. “So you’ve made up your mind then?”

Mary blushed and nodded. She was the very picture of maidenhood.

The Four Innocents remained silent.

“I suppose one of us should go hug her,” Danny remarked finally. He got up. “Hey, Mary, congratulations.”

“Oh, thank you, Danny.”

The others followed Danny’s lead.

“All this congratulating is making me hungry,” Patrick announced. “Let’s go get some cake.”

“What bakery’s open this time of night?” Matt pointed out.

“Well, let’s go to an all night donut shop.”

“Yeah,” Mary agreed. “Dia—I mean, donuts are ring-shaped. Like diamonds. Diamonds on a ring, I mean. Oh, never mind. I’m tongue-tied.”

“Larry, I’ve thought it over—“ Mary began.

“Talked it over with the Four Innocents?”

“Talked it over with the Four Innocents. And they gave me their blessing.”

“Does that mean--?”

“Yes.” They kissed each other.

“Hop in the car. I’ve got to take you to meet my folks. But first open the gift.”

Mary picked up the box lying on the passenger seat, and opened it. “Ooh, what a lovely scarf!”

“Yes, but it’s not to wear around your neck.”

“Huh?”

“It’s to wear around your eyes while we drive to my parents’ house.”

Mary smirked. “If you insist.”

Mary asked Larry to turn up the radio while they drove in his convertible. “I bet people are staring at us,” she said.

“’Cause the music’s so loud, not because of your blindfold.”

“Loud music, the wind, feeling but not seeing the bends in the road—now this is a ride!”

As the drive progressed, Mary was sure they were travelling up and around. Finally, they stopped. “Are we gonna skydive off a cliff?” Mary asked teasingly. “I know we’re up high.”

“Take off your scarf, my love, for we are here,” Larry announced regally.

In front of her lay a large white mansion. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

“Home to my father, John Henry Music, entrepeneur.”

“ _The_ Music Man? As in hair care products, frozen foods¼?”

“Breakfast cereals, canned fruit¼” Larry trailed off purposefully.

“Dog food?”

“And cat food, besides. My father likes to please people on both sides.”

Mary glanced down. She was wearing trim slacks and a silk blouse. “Do I look appropriate enough? Are they going to laugh at me?”

“Come now—my father wasn’t born a blue blood. He came from the stock of everyday people. So he’s not all—“

“Hoity-toity?” Mary finished.

“Highty-tighty,” Larry added.

“La di da.”

Larry smiled and offered his fiancee his arm. She took it and they walked to the door.

“Don’t you have gated security here?” Mary wondered.

“Yeah, why?”

“I didn’t hear you clear any gate.”

“Oh, Bob knew I was coming with you. He just quietly waved me through.”

“My dad owns a recording studio and label,” Larry was saying. “I was thinking of bringing your Four Innocents down there and letting them run wild in it.”

“Like kids in a candy store,” Mary commented.

“Or a bull in a china shop.”

Mary snapped her fingers. “Hey! I’ve got an idea! Let’s do to them like you did to me—blindfold them and not tell them where we’re going.”

He laughed. “That’s a good idea, but I don’t think the boys will appreciate me buying them scarves.”

She hit him teasingly in the shoulder.

Mary and Larry had managed to convince the Four Innocents to let Larry drive the psychedelic van. Once they were seated on the van’s floor, Mary also persuaded them to put the blindfolds on. Now came the challenge—getting four blind Innocents into the studio. “Hold hands,” Mary suggested. “It’s not far to the door anyhow.”

“It better not be,” Matt said, nearly grumbling. “I feel ridiculous with these blindfolds on.”

“You all look very pretty,” Mary replied teasingly. She took Matt’s hand. He was attached to Danny, Danny to Timmy, and Timmy to Patrick.

She led them inside the recording studio. “Okay—one two three.”

“Four!” Patrick added eagerly.

“It’s okay, Patrick, you can take your blindfold off now,” Timmy said.

They found themselves in a room with acoustic paneling. Larry stood behind a glass window, trying to look busy at a gleaming workstation.

“It’s a¼studio,” Timmy acknowledged finally.

“What are we doing here?” Matt wondering, sounding asea.

“It’s yours!” Mary exclaimed. “I don’t mean yours as if you own it. I mean, yours to set down your best songs for posterity.”

“Yeah, for your children’s children!” Larry joked.

“Yeah, right!” Danny retorted.

“You’re marrying a music producer?” Patrick asked Mary.

“Well, that’s one of many hats he can wear.”

“I can be producer on your recordings,” Larry offered. “Record all you want. If it doesn’t all fit on one album, we can use the cuts on a second.”

“This is gonna cost us, right?” Matt tried to ascertain.

“No,” Larry answered. “The idea is your records will make profits for all of us.”

“I don’t want you guys to get the idea I’m ungrateful,” Matt said hurriedly. “We really appreciate this—“

“Yeah, we really do,” Danny chimed in.

“It’s just that—well, I’m intimidated,” Matt confessed.

“Don’t worry,” Larry reassured. “I’ll have you feeling at home in no time.”

“So, we’re not losing a roommate,” Danny remarked, eagerly rubbing his hands together. “We’re gaining a record producer.”

“And a toehold in the frozen foods industry, if you’re interested,” Mary said wryly.

The fellas had been up all night, gathered around the bandstand, trying to narrow down which songs they wanted to record first. “And Patrick,” Matt began. “I want you to think of any instruments you always wanted to hear on one of our songs, but couldn’t play because you were too busy taking care of bass guitar.”

“Okay,” Patrick said with an understanding nod. “But who’s going to be playing bass guitar while I’m playing other instruments?”

Matt resisted the urge to call his friend silly. “You are! We’ll record your parts at separate times, then Larry will mix them together.”

“So it will sound as if I’m playing bass and something else at the same time,” Patrick said hesitantly.

“Bingo.”

Patrick grinned.

“Thinks of all the possibilities!” Timmy exclaimed excitedly. “We can have keyboards and bass—together! Or piano, or a trumpet solo—or flutes and harpsichords. I’ve always thought most songs out there would sound better if they added flutes and harpsichords.”

“What, are you going for baroque?” Danny cracked.

Continuing to chat eagerly, they didn’t get to bed until 3:42 AM.


	4. Everyone Must Fall

EVERYONE MUST FALL

I

The song had the most annoying lyrics after "When She Enters Your Life". The Four Innocents liked to scream in unison whenever it came on the air. It was called "Everyone Must Fall". The most famous and over-played version was by Motor City heartthrob Stan Grayson, he of the smooth voice and sharp suits. The Four Innocents had also heard other versions as track selections on albums by the Teen Idols, the Barking Dogs, and the Backbeats, but fortunately these were not broadcast over the radio. Many local bands had also been known to include the song in their repertoire. To the Four Innocents' greater chagrin, a new hit version had been recorded by an up-and-coming trio known as the Serenades.

Thus it was that although the bandmates were excited at Mary and Larry introducing them to all the celebrities participating in the Motor City Cross-Country Tour, when they heard a recording of the original "Everyone Must Fall" playing in some nearby room, they groaned softly or screamed audibly, each according their preference.

"Girl when I ask you out you just sit and pout

Romance just ain't allowed, but soon you'll join the crowd 

Oh, you may try to resist, but let me tell you this

Everyone must fall; everyone must fall in love

You have nothing to do with the things lovers do

But let me tell you soon you'll sing a different tune

Oh, you may try to resist, but let me tell you this

Everyone must march; everyone must march down that aisle."

"Why, oh why, is this song so popular?" Matt demanded, his hands over his ears. Mary and Larry looked on in amusement. 

"And as if they didn't overplay this version enough, now the Serenades have recorded it, too!" Danny added.

"Someone bad-mouthing one of our numbers?" a sassy feminine voice wondered. Three beautiful black girls stepped out of the room that the record was being played in.

The Four Innocents turned red.

"Uh, it's not that it doesn't have a nice tune," Timmy said hurriedly. "But it's just that the Stan Grayson version has been played so much around here."

"Someone bad-mouthing one of Stan's numbers?" the same girl asked.

"It's just that it's been played so often!" Timmy insisted.

Patrick, meanwhile, was staring open-mouthed at one of the other girls. She also gazed at him with the same curiosity.

Danny got more truthful. "And we also disagree with its generalizing about how everyone must fall in love and get married, like it or not. Nothing personal, you understand, Valerie." He called her Valerie because he recognized her from photographs. She was the lead singer. "You too, Jo and Cathy," he added, remembering the other two names listed in the picture caption--although one of the girls didn't look familiar.

"Oh, I'm not Cathy," the girl Patrick was staring at corrected. 

"Cathy left a month ago," Jo explained. "She got, um, married."

Valerie picked up the story. "This is our newest member, Yolanda Ballard."

"Yolanda!" Patrick cried. "I knew I knew you!" Excitedly, he walked up to her, extending his hand.

"I know I know you," she said, tentatively taking his hand. "But, who--?"

"Patrick Keefe."

She smiled with recognition and affection, using her grip on his hand to pull him in closer, so that they could embrace instead.

When they let go, she glanced at her girlfriends. "Patrick and I were childhood friends back when I lived in Massachusetts."

"You're doing pretty good," Patrick observed.

"Yeah. I see you and your bandmates are getting to the heights, too."

"Well..." Patrick began.

"We don't even have any records out yet," Matt said.

"I caught a glimpse of you guys in the recording studio with Mary and Larry. And they're in the top forty now."

Danny shrugged. "Larry's got connections, you know. His father owns Parthenon Records."

"Well, you're connected to Larry," Valerie broke in. "So you should start moving places, too."

"We hope so," Matt remarked. "But right now we're just playing instruments for Mary and Larry's recordings. We haven't recorded our own stuff yet. Still, it is a start."

II

The Four Innocents and Yolanda were sitting in the building's snack room, which was deserted of any other people. Yolanda and Patrick snacked on one bag of potato chips and two orange sodas. "So, what's really your problem with that song?" Yolanda asked all of them. "Overplay or lyrics?"

"Well, both really," Matt said.

"It just really starts getting on your nerves after awhile," Timmy chimed in.

"But it's the lyrics that get us most," Danny said. "We all intend to stay with each other, and not fall in love and get married."

"Oh, so you don't like the song saying everyone gets married as if there were no exceptions to the rule?" Yolanda tried to clarify.

"Yeah, that's it, and him telling the girl--or in your version, telling the guy that...well, trying to manipulate them into a relationship."

"I guess it is king of annoying," Yolanda admitted. "I didn't really think about it before. Most of the songs, the lyrics to me are just something to sing so you don't have to hum. They're just nonsense, like the old street corner songs. You know, 'Day doo doo doo day wah wah wah'."

"Ramalama sha-boom," Danny added, shaking his hips in rhythm.

"Doo doo doo day ron day ron," Timmy joined in.

Soon, the Partners in Crime and Yolanda were dancing about the room, singing out meaningless syllables and having the time of their lives. Patrick and Matt watched on, embarrassed but loving it.

Valerie popped her head in the doorway, and her eyes went wide. "What the hell--?" She quickly popped her head back out.

The bandmates and Yolanda laughed, and sat back down. "She must have thought we've been drinking too much soda," Yolanda remarked. "But anyway, that's all the words are to me. It doesn't matter anyhow, though, because Valerie's the lead singer. All I get to do is go 'ooh' and 'aah'."

"Is there a chance you might sing lead one day?" Danny wondered.

"Stan said something about maybe us doing a duet."

"Stan?"

"Yeah, you know, Stan Grayson. He's a real gentleman. Makes all of us girls feel like we were the one special lady in his life. Has a way like that. I think he kinda likes me--but then, I suppose he gives every girl that impression."

"Danny's a bit like that, too," Matt commented.

"But how many other back-up singers has he singled out to sing a duet with him?" Danny pointed out. 

"True," Yolanda admitted, looking down at the floor.

"Did he say what song you might do?"

Embarrassed, Yolanda glanced away. "Well, to tell you the truth--"

Patrick broke in. "Another version of 'Everyone Must Fall'," he surmised. Patrick's bandmates groaned.

"Well, sorta," Yolanda explained. "That's the song we had already picked out for me to sing as sort of an audition. But if I do get to do a duet with him, it will probably be a new song written just for the occasion."

III

"So you and that beauty used to be childhood friends?" Larry asked Patrick. They, Mary, Jo, Valerie, and the rest of the Innocents watched Yolanda as she prepared for her audition for Stan. Mary nudged her fiancé as though jealous, though she knew she had no reason to feel insecure.

"Yeah," Patrick replied simply to Larry's question.

"Then how'd you end with these jokers?" Larry teased, jerking a thumb at Patrick's bandmates. 

Yolanda, Stan, and other musicians and crewmembers were inside the studio; their audience watched from behind a glass window. A piano player rendered the opening chords of "Everyone Must Fall". Yolanda glanced out at Patrick, winking. Tensing, she began to sing.

"When I ask you out, you just sit and pout

Romance just ain't allowed; you're not part of the crowd."

No one seemed to notice her slight deviation from the lyrics. She continued.

"Oh, you may try to resist, but let me tell you this

Everyone must fall; everyone must fall in love.

You have nothing to do with the things lovers do

Guess some would as soon sing a different tune

Oh, I may try to resist, but I tell myself this

Everyone can't; everyone can't go by the rules."

By now, everyone was staring at her. "Now why'd she do that?" Valerie wondered.

"She didn't have to do that," Danny remarked. "She didn't have to change the words just because we didn't like them."

"Yeah, it's like she said, songs like these really mean about as much as 'do ran day ran'," Matt said.

"I hope she didn't risk her big chance just for us," Timmy fretted.

Patrick said nothing, he just had his face and hands pressed against the glass, watching anxiously.

Stan walked up to Yolanda, who was obviously weak at the knees. She could not look him in the eyes. "I guess I got carried away," she apologized.

He did not seem to hear her. "A little bit of improv there, huh?" he asked in his deep, rich voice.

"Guess so."

"You know, growing up, before rhythm and blues, jazz was like mother's milk to me. And you know what makes jazz great?"

"What?"

"Improvisation. Taking chances."

She gazed up at him, smiling tentatively. He held out his hand to her. Laughing in relief, she took it.

"Honey, I'll be proud to have you on my next album," Stan said, embracing her tightly. She squealed, and as he held her, her feet were not even touching the floor.

Mary and Larry, Valerie and Jo, and Patrick and his bandmates cheered.

1  
  
---  
  
It didn’t take long for the Music family to make things happen. In no time at all, the Four Innocents found themselves attending Mary and Larry’s wedding at St. Francis Park. The reception was to be held at Romarama. Some celebrities were there, including the Serenades and Stan Grayson.

The time came for the throwing of the bouquet. It was caught by some blonde girl the bandmates didn’t know. Then it was time for the garter to be thrown, signifying which male would marry next. The Four Innocents rushed up on the podium to take a spot safely behind the bride and groom.

“Nah uh uh,” Mary chided. “You don’t have to keep your hands open, but you’ve got to be out there.” When Larry threw the garter, the four scrambled—as far away as they could get from it.

Effortlessly, as though he knew all along the garter was going to him, Stan Grayson reached up and caught it.

Jo squealed and Valerie exclaimed, “He is so smooth!” Yolanda just smiled.

“Looks like I’m about to be married,” Stan said in his deep, rich voice. “I better find me a bride.” His hand had meanwhile retrieved a small box out of his jacket pocket. With his other hand, he grabbed hold of Yolanda’s fingers. He got down on one knee. “Yolanda Mae Ballard, would you do me the favor of becoming my wife?”

Yolanda was shaking all over. “Yes,” she managed to blurt out. Valerie and Jo jumped up and down behind her, and the Four Innocents ran up to join in the jubilation, and Danny hugged Valerie for no apparent reason.

“Guys, I’m worried about Yolanda,” Patrick confessed.

“Why?” Matt wondered. “It seems to me she’s got a bright future ahead of her.”

“Yeah,” Timmy agreed. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“I know,” Patrick admitted. “It’s just that she’s marrying Stan Grayson.”

“Are you jealous, Pat?” Timmy asked gently. “It’s understandable—you reunited with an old friend, just to have her plunge into a romance.”

“No, I don’t think it’s that. Stan, well, he’s very charming, but is he the right guy?”

“It does sound like you’re jealous,” Timmy insisted.

Danny spoke up. “No, I think I know what he’s getting at. Stan is very smooth and all, but is he all smoothness and no substance? Does he have any real character?”

“Oh, I get it!” Matt exclaimed. “We know he’s charming, but that’s about all we know.”

“And maybe he’ll continue charming the ladies after he’s married,” Timmy added. “Charming them a bit too much, if you know what I mean.”

December 5, 1968

“They’re staring, Danny, they’re staring!” Valerie squealed.

“Let ‘em stare.”

“Oh, man, I never been out with a white boy before! This is too weird!”

Valerie and Danny were out on a date at a secluded restaurant. “It could be they’re staring because they recognize you.”

“Oh, man, I hope none of them are from the press! My face’ll be on the tabloid covers for sure.”

Dinner came and Valerie finally calmed down. Danny made Valerie laugh by telling her stories of the pranks he and Timmy pulled in St. Francis Park. “And we have a big prank in mind, but it’s for a good purpose this time, and we’d like you to be a part of it.”

“Me?”

“But understand now, there’s some risk involved.”

“Risk? What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you what we have in mind. We want you to flirt with Stan Grayson.”

“Oh, that’ll be easy. But why?”

“We want to find out if he’ll be true to Patrick’s friend Yolanda.”

“I see.”

“The risk is you’ll look like you’re of less than sterling character.”

“Who says people don’t see me that way already? Okay, I’ll do it.”

Valerie accosted Stan in the hallway. “Hey, Stan.”

“Hello, Valerie. How are you this fine morning?”

“Just peachy.” She sidled up to him and ran a finger along his lapel. “Say, Stan, when you’re married, are you still gonna have time for us other girls?”

“Same as usual. I’ll say hello and hold the door open for you--” He took her hand and gently pulled it away from his jacket. “But that’s all. I ain’t gonna be giving my lovin’ to more than one woman. Now where’s the romance in that?”

Valerie smiled impishly. “Good. ‘Cause I was just testing you.” Giggling, she scampered down the hallway like an elf.

The Four Innocents were sitting on their bandstand. “Mary and Larry, Patrick’s friend Yolanda and Stan Grayson¼” began Danny. “It seems like everyone we know is getting married.”

“I’m happy for Yolanda,” Patrick declared. “I’m glad she’s moving up in the world.”

“Maybe we should consider settling down,” Danny joked. “Huh?”

They all looked at each other and shook their heads. “Naah.”

“We are settled down,” Matt pointed out. “With each other.”

“Oh, but you know,” Danny said with mild sarcasm. “We should be raising a family.”

“No way I’m bringing a kid into this crazy world,” Timmy remarked.

“I’m just not interested in sex,” Patrick argued.

“Besides, if we had a wife and kids, we’d have to love each other less,” Danny said. “Well, maybe not less, but we couldn’t be number one in each other’s lives anymore.”

“People wise,” Timmy broke in.

“Of course, God should always be number one,” Danny corrected knowingly. “But according to Pastor Sherwood, a man should place his wife and kids before any other human being—including friends.”

“Imagine this,” Timmy told them, then put on an officious voice. “Honey, I do vow to cherish thee ‘til death do us part, but I’m still bunking with my friends. You can have the guest room.”

“Well, I still want to be like we are now,” Patrick remarked. “But I’m glad for Mary and Larry and Yolanda and Stan, ‘cause I think it’s what they want. And I think they’ll be happy.”


	5. Danny's Tour Journal

DANNY’S TOUR JOURNAL

_New York City_

_We were there on stage for the whole show--Mary and Larry's concert. We're their backing band. But we get to star in the four song set that opens the show, before Mary and Larry come out._

_We started with a rocking cover--this time the Consorts' "Don't Even Bother", but we plan on alternating that with the Rocking Chairs' "Bad Girl". I sing lead on "Don't Even Bother"; Matt does the honors on "Bad Girl"._

_Then it was on to our perennial favorite, “You’re for Me”. We’ve almost forgotten that it’s a cover, too. We’ve been doing that song for so long, we’ve made it our own._

_We highlighted our single, “New World”, next. It’s one we wrote ourselves, and Timmy sings lead on it. I play what ordinarily would be Patrick’s guitar part, and he plays harpsichord._

_Our showcase song, the last one in the set, is “Playful Child”, which we also wrote. It’s about staying young at heart. We harmonize on it, all four of us. Timmy’s voice, twinged with angst; Patrick’s voice so soft and tender; Matt’s voice envelops you like a warm embrace. I don’t know what I should say about mine, but the effect of our voices together could knock you off your feet._

_New York City_

_We had some time off and were taking a tour of New York City, when all of the sudden, we realized Patrick was no longer with us._

_Well, to begin with, Matt was leery and cautious of New York City. Timmy was downright petrified. I seemed to be the only one keen on it. Patrick just wandered around, his head tilted towards the top of the skyscrapers and his mouth hanging open. So we were all naturally concerned when he disappeared._

_Matt stayed back at the hotel. Timmy and I split into one group, Mary and Larry another, and a couple of roadies a third. We rode the subways around, stopping briefly at every station. We called Matt periodically, and finally he informed us he could see Patrick out the hotel window. He was in the park, feeding pigeons with some eccentric looking, possibly homeless lady._

_Providence, RI_

_We were stuck inside. It was rainy. The fans of Mary and Larry were particularly loud and noisy, so the fellas and I were camped out in our hotel room. We nibbled on snacks brought up by room service. Matt was sitting on one bed, I on the other. Patrick and Timmy sat on the floor, their backs against the wall. “I know what we can do,” I said. “Let’s tell our deepest, darkest, most innermost secrets. Patrick?”_

_He went blank. “I dunno.”_

_“Matt?”  
“Um, let’s see,” our bandleader began. “I have feelings for my cousin.”_

_“We already figured that out.”_

_Matt shrugged._

_“Timmy?”_

_Timmy stared at me; I didn’t know why. Then he looked down at the carpet. “I tried to kill myself.”_

_“Yeah, you almost took your Mom’s pills.”_

_“No, there was a time after that. After we met. Matt knows. Genie saved me.”_

_“But why—”_

_He held a hand up. “It wasn’t due to any problem with the band. It was an obsessive guilt trip that wouldn’t leave me alone.”_

_I stood up and shook a finger at him. “You come talk to us before you try anything like that again.”_

_Timmy stared up at me and nodded._

_“If we lost you, Timmy, what would we do?”_

_He waved the notion aside. “It’s past.”_

_Patrick grabbed Timmy’s arm. “I’m scared now.”_

_Timmy put a hand on his friend’s clutching arm. “Patrick, really, the problem is in the past.”_

_“But what if a new one comes up? You won’t try to kill yourself then?”_

_Timmy shook his head. “No, I—”_

_Patrick held his hand out significantly. Timmy sighed and lay his hand on top. “No more looking to suicide as a solution,” he promised. Matt and I lay our hands on as well._

_“Really, fellas, it’s an old problem,” Timmy remarked._

_“Why’d you keep it a secret from us?” I asked._

_“I didn’t want you to feel hurt. It really had nothing to do with you. Matt knows because he found out shortly after it happened.”_

_Matt made eye contact with me. “Danny, you’ve got a strong spirit. You may not realize it, but Timmy, Patrick, and I are extremely fragile.”_

_There was silence for a moment. “Then I want to be fragile, too.”_

_“Has suicide ever occurred to you?” Matt wondered._

_I thought back and shook my head. “I don’t understand the concept.” More silence. “I shouldn’t have started this tell-all game.”_

_“No no,” Timmy blurted. “It feels good to finally get things out in the open.”_

_“I just want us to be as close as can be. No secrets between us.”_

_“Well, there aren’t now,” Timmy pointed out._

_“As close as can be?” Matt repeated incredulously. “Man, when we fall asleep, we have the same dream. How much closer can we get?”_

_“We will be so close that even death will not be able to separate us.” I lay down on the floor. The other fellas joined me, in a circle, our heads touching. Timmy had his feet up on the wall, and Matt had his up on a bed, due to lack of space in our hotel room._

_We fell asleep._

_We had a dream._

_It is for us alone to know._

_Massachusetts_

_We had time to visit Patrick’s childhood home in Dedham, not far from the concert site in Boston. Someone else was living in it, of course. Patrick just pointed at the outside and shrugged. Braver than he, I knocked on the door. A nice old lady answered the door, and she didn’t mind us looking around inside. We climbed the stairs and saw Patrick’s old bedroom, and that of his mother. The ceilings of both rooms were slanted._

_The lady, Mrs. Andrews, handed Patrick a small stack of cardboard papers stapled together. “I found this one year while spring cleaning. Is it yours?”_

_Patrick looked at it. I stood on tiptoes to peer over his arm. On the first sheet of paper was a crude crayon drawing of a dog. Above it, equally crude lettering spelled out Muffin. “I forgot about this,” Patrick said._

_“That’s the dog you used to have,” I remarked._

_Patrick nodded, and thumbed through the handmade book. Then, all of the sudden, his lip began to tremble, and next thing I knew, he was crying on Matt’s shoulder. Helplessly, I glanced at Timmy. “The dog died,” he reminded me softly, grasping my wrist._

_“She was only ten!” Patrick protested. “Why can’t dogs live forever?”_

_“Now dear,” Mrs. Andrews said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you believe that all dogs go to heaven?”_

_“Do they?”  
“The Bible says for us to store up treasures in heaven. If Muffin was a treasure, then she should be there, don’t you think?”_

_Patrick nodded. He regained some of his composure. “I want lots of dogs in heaven.” He hugged Mrs. Andrews before we went downstairs._

_Out back were rows and rows of vegetables. We four were walking through them and kept hearing a noise, like that of a great beast. We followed it to the back of another house. On the porch, in a giant cage, was this huge parrot! From its head to the tip of its tail, it was as big as me! The bird looked up and its pupils grew small and it said, “Err!”, like it was happy to see us and all._

_“Hello, pretty bird,” Timmy greeted._

_“Naughty!” the bird replied. “Naughty! I’m a naughty bird.”_

_Some kid came out back and he told us the bird was a blue and gold macaw and his name was General—if it was a male. The boy didn’t really know. Imagine going through life being called a guy when you’re really a chick!_

_Hartford, CT_

We stopped in Hartford today. It gave Timmy a chance to see his father. He hadn’t met with him since before the band formed. Patrick and I had seen him once or twice while he was still taking care of a few details in California before moving permanently to Connecticut. Matt had never met him. Nonetheless, Timmy was so nervous he practically wanted Matt to hold his hand.

_Mr. Marvin Rowe met Timmy in the pool area of our hotel. They sat at one table; Matt, Patrick, and I just hung around, not interfering as per Timmy’s request, unless he desperately needed backup._

_Mr. Rowe didn’t know how to begin a conversation. “So, these are your three lovers then?”_

_“Dad, they are my friends—my bandmates—not my lovers.”_

_“Still sticking to that story, huh?”_

_Timmy sighed in exasperation. “Look, do you want me to be gay?”_

_“No, I want--”_

_“Well, it certainly seems like that’s what you want to believe when you won’t let me explain the truth.”_

_“What other explanation can there be? You’re freakin’ gay!” Mr. Rowe stood up. “I should’ve known all my sons would fail me. Mark killed himself. Marty rebelled, and you go gay.”_

_I wanted so intensely to shout at Mr. Rowe, shout that maybe he was the reason his sons went “wrong”, but Timmy just shook his head. “Well,” my friend said in measured tones. “I have tried. That’s all I can do. Some other time maybe. Some day down the road.”_

_Mr. Rowe nodded curtly and left._

_We all gathered around Timmy. He gestured for us to give him space. He took off his shoes and rolled up his pants and sat at the edge of the pool, tears running silently down his cheeks._

_“Matthew—” Patrick began concernedly._

_“Shh. He wants to be alone,” Matt advised._

_“But don’t you think--?” I broke in._

_“What if Mr. Rowe comes back?” Matt whispered. “And sees us hugging?”_

_“I think I’ll go drown myself in this pool,” Timmy muttered—rather loudly for a mutter._

_My sympathy vanished in an instant, replaced by a flash of anger. “Is that your answer for everything then—to drown yourself?”_

_Timmy looked at me, confused. “Wha--? Danny! I didn’t mean--”_

_I shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t know what that was all about.”_

_Matt wouldn’t let it go. “Oh, sure you do. You’re worried that any time Timmy gets majorly upset, that he’ll get suicidal.”_

_Timmy was at his wit’s end. “I’m not—Really—I--”_

_I stepped closer to him. “I know. It’s just when you said that it reminded me of the time you nearly did drown yourself out back and didn’t tell us until just recently.”_

_“Come a bit closer. I didn’t hear you,” Timmy said, in nearly a whisper._

_“I said--” He grabbed my leg and tossed me in the pool! The dirty scoundrel! I’d been tricked! I tell ya, I’m starting to lose my skills as a trickster. “Why’d you do—(glub)—why’d you go and do that for, Timmy? It’s freezing!”_

_“I thought I’d drown you instead of myself,” Timmy said with a smile._

_I yanked at his leg. “Don’t you know if you drown me, you drown yourself?” He slid in, not as dramatically as I had hoped. Still, he was in the water, fully dressed._

_“Look at you two,” Matt chided, while Timmy splashed me frantically. “Look at them, Patrick.” The docile boy did as he was told, and soon found himself shoved in by Matt, who jumped in immediately afterward--to keep himself from being pulled in by one of us, no doubt._

_“Well, if I wasn’t celibate before, I am now,” Matt remarked cryptically._

_“What do you mean?” I wondered._

_“I have a sud-sudden urge for a blanket and a fireplace,” Patrick said, his teeth chattering._

_“Then let’s ditch this crazy scene,” Timmy suggested, climbing out of the pool. We followed suit._

_It was now colder out of the pool, or so it seemed. We huddled together for warmth. “You’re not mad at me?” I asked Timmy timidly._

_“Naw. For being concerned for me?”_

_“What is this?” a voice demanded. We looked up to see Mr. Rowe. “I go away for a few minutes and you’re all soaked in your everyday clothes and clinging together like a bunch of newborn puppies!”_

_“Well, it’s like this,” Timmy began, but he seemed casual about it._

_“Don’t you kids have any sense of responsibility? Of decency? None of you is ever going to make it in the world.” He made the last statement as if pronouncing a curse on us._

_“Dad, we’re on tour with Mary and Larry!”_

_“But you’re not stars yet.” He threw up his hands in resignation. “Oh, I’m through with you! Through trying! You try to raise a boy to be responsible, manly, and heterosexual, and this is what happens!” He stalked off._

_We looked at Timmy in concern. He looked back and shrugged. “He’s beyond reasoning. What can I do?”_

_“Well,” Matt said, and let out a low whistle. “Let’s get upstairs and change into some dry clothes for a start.”_

_We walked through the lobby and hallways, still dripping wet, and receiving a fair share of stares._

_Cincinnatti_

_They say you live and learn. I guess I learned today. I don’t much care for being taught a lesson!_

_We had one of our first fan scenes at this big posh hotel in Cincinnatti. Some girls recognized us from the show the night before, and started screaming. “Run!” Matt yelped, and he and Timmy and Patrick took off. I followed, but then I thought, isn’t it our running that’s got the girls after us?—‘Cause they were at our heels by this time. Sometimes if you're being chased by a dog and you stop, the dog runs right past you. Besides, I thought, what’s the most harm a bunch of doe-eyed teenage girls can do?_

_Well, I was lucky to escape with my life. They got my shirt, torn right off my back. One girl nearly choked me pulling off my love beads._

_Then a few cops appeared down the way me mates had disappeared. They beat off the girls—not that they hurt them—and escorted me out of there._

_Cleveland_

_We’re in Cleveland tonight, that city they always referred to when they needed a random city to refer to in that show The Many Romances of Toby Willis. I’d like to see what all the fuss was about with Cleveland, but the fellas are too tired to venture out._

_We got to talking about the TV show:_

TIMMY: Hey, Toby’s beatnik friend was one of us, man!

PATRICK: Yeah, and that Mulligan character the same actor played. Everyone says me and Mulligan are alike.

ME: So we have two fictional characters to add to our band—Reynard and Mulligan. The Four Innocents Plus 2.

TIMMY: Reynard played bongos.

PATRICK: I think Mulligan played bamboo drums in one episode.

MATT: You guys, people are trying to sleep, you know!

TIMMY: What people are those?

_(Matt sighs with exasperation and puts pillow over his head.)_

ME: I’m just gonna finish up with the tour journal, Matt. Then I’ll settle down. I can’t account for the Watchdog Pups, though.

_Ohio_

_We went to a theme park called Wonderwood—more basic than Hopeland. Less aimed at every member of the family. Here, it was best to come already equipped with a taste for danger._

_Timmy and Patrick wouldn’t go on the roller coasters. Then Matt and I got the idea, simultaneously and telepathically, to bribe them. We offered Timmy two ethnic dinners on the road, and when we got back home, a day trip over the border to Mexico. We promised Patrick a puppy. Patrick would hear nothing of it._

_Timmy stood in line with us, nervous and fidgety. I tried joking with him but I don’t think it helped. We waited about forty-five minutes in that line, and just when it was our turn to go on, and what do I see out of the corner of my eye, but Timmy, running away to Patrick and safety!_

_Minnesota_

_The guys and I and Mary and Larry had time to while away fishing on a lake. Nice and slow and peaceful—and a welcome change of pace—until Patrick somehow fell in the water! And Timmy, of course, had to leap in after him! I don’t know if he was trying to rescue his bandmate or just joining in on the fun. They weren’t far from shore anyway._

_Then Patrick caught a fish—for a split second—in his mouth! The fish leaped right up and out of the water! Patrick spit and seemed not to hear Matt’s and my congratulations. “Taste icky!” he commented. “I’m gonna need another orange drink and some chips.”_

_Chicago_

_In the park, Larry’s birthday party was over. The birthday boy and Mary had ducked inside. I was talking to Matt, who was leaning against a tree. Suddenly, I glanced at Patrick. He had a huge dab of frosting on his finger, and he was licking it. “Patrick! Mind your manners!” I chided in a teasing way._

_He shrugged and glanced at Timmy. I followed his gaze. Timmy, kneeling on the picnic bench, had his face down in the cake, licking up trails of frosting and biting, dog like, into leftover cake. “Timmy!”_

_He looked up, frosting on his chin. “I like the flower parts best.” He wiped his chin with his fingers. “There’s so much frosting and it’s so sweet!”_

_“You don’t need to resort to canine behavior!” I insisted._

_“And there’s no need for you to eat like a horse,” he retorted, and resumed grabbing chunks of cake with his mouth._

_“All right, that does it!” I said, walking over to the bench. I neatly cut off a corner piece. “Timmy.” He looked up. I plastered the piece on his face._

_He looked at me—what he could see of me through the frosting, that is. Then he grabbed the squeeze bottles of ketchup and mustard and squirted condiments all over my face._

_I tore off another piece of cake and threw it at him. He poured the ketchup and mustard in my hair and rubbed it in like it was shampoo._

_Next thing I knew is we were wrestling on the ground, getting filthy, and Matt was showering leaves on us while Patrick just stared, mouth agape. Then Timmy and I tired, and we lay in the dirt and grass and laughed._

_Matt helped Timmy to his feet. “C’mon, we better start going before too many people notice Danny’s hair.”_

_A tramp passed by and we let him have the rest of the cake. Timmy confessed later he felt guilty for wasting food when hungry people were nearby. I just lightly slapped his face, and told him not to worry so much._

_“Waste not, want not,” Matt said cryptically._

_Orlando_

_On the way from Jacksonville to Miami, we just had to stop near Orlando, to see the grounds on which Hopeworld is to be built. Our celebrity status got us onto the restricted grounds._

_Some foundations were already there, and the land had been cleared. Everything was staked out, so our guide could point out where everything would go._

_Timmy was so excited. He would gaze up into the sky and measure out with his hands where a castle or haunted house or woodland cottage would be. Then he knelt down by the ground, letting some dirt sift through his fingers. “Do you feel it, guys? This ground is magic. Already it’s exuding magic!”_

_“It’s neat,” Patrick agreed._

_“We are definitely gonna come back here when it’s finished.”_

_“Careful how you phrase things, Timmy,” Matt warned—for what reason escaped me. “We don’t know what could happen in the next couple of years.”_

_Timmy, still kneeling, looked up. “We can come though, right?”_

_“I hope so.”_

_Timmy stood, smiling. “Hope?_ Hope _we’ll go to_ Hope _world?”_

_“There’s where the Phantom Mansion is going to be,” I pointed out._

_“Yeah, I know, Steve showed us,” Timmy reminded me._

_“I wonder if it’ll be just like the one at Hopeland,” I continued. “Let’s pretend we’re on it. Might as well take a ride while we’re here.”_

_So we spent most of the day making up our own rides._

_New Orleans_

_Timmy wanted each of us to order a Cajun or Creole dish, but when Matt and Patrick stuck to basic fare, he ended up having to order crawfish, etouffée, and jambalaya all for himself. I had a po’ boy. “That looks like a plate of big ol’ bugs!” I remarked when his plate of crawfish arrived. “How do you eat that stuff anyway?”_

_“I don’t know,” he confessed sheepishly._

_Then we went to a park and listened to jazz all afternoon. Timmy was in a culture-lovin’ heaven. But there would be hell to pay. Back at the concert hall, he got a splitting headache and threw up half his food backstage. He made it through the concert only by sheer willpower. Matt forever banned him from pigging out on strange food._

_That brings us to a dilemma we have often thought upon. The Consorts once did a short tour without Tom-Tom, because he was having his tonsils removed. What if one of us was sick or injured to the point where he just couldn’t go on? Would it be just three of us? Or would we hire a substitute? Stubborn as we are, we pledged it would always be all four of us, or none of us, going on stage, ‘til death do us part._

St. Louis

_I don’t learn from my mistakes, I tell ya. I encouraged the fellas to let a couple of fans up to our room, just to visit for awhile. Well, what does one of the first of them do as soon as she gets her feet through the door? She kisses me. Maybe that doesn’t sound too shocking to you, but let me tell you the full story. She picked me up off the floor like I was a little baby—and then she stuck her tongue in my mouth! Ace and those Fig Leaf chaps will probably kill me when I tell them I didn’t enjoy it, but what can I tell you—I’m a natural-born celibate. Besides, she tasted of cigarettes._

_Kansas City_

_The girls we invite to our room are getting nicer than that smoky French kisser. Most of them are shy and blush a lot. They’re grateful to share a few moments with us._

_The fellas and Mary and Larry are noticing a trend: I’m getting a lot of attention. I think it must be the novelty of my height—four foot six. The girls think I’m their little toy boy. The other fellas are surely better looking than me, though. And, for goodness’ sake, it’s_ Timmy _who sings lead on our single!_

_Arizona_

_We were at Four Corners today, and we took turns—the four of us each standing in one state (Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico), then we would move on to the next state, and hold hands to form a circle. “Now we have a friendship that transcends all boundaries,” I remarked._

_Later, Timmy enjoyed shopping for sand paintings and pottery at the stands the Navajo had set up around the park._

_I saw a cute Navajo girl. She was six, and in pigtails. She was learning how to string up beads._

_Arizona_

_We had time to see the Grand Canyon today. Patrick and I were awed—no surprise there. Matt was appreciative, but he’d seen it before. Timmy, who had been excited about the visit, totally freaked out when he saw the great heights one could fall from. He wouldn’t even come near the edge; he stayed near our bus. But Timmy’s remark as we moved on was, “I expected it to be more bare orangey red rock. There was too much plant life.”_

_San Antonio  
_

_We were in Texas—no time to go to Matt’s relatives’ house while we were there. But Uncle Luke, Billie, Zelda, Aunt Hilda, Nathaniel, and Mirabelle came by the hotel before the concert, same as the Winwards did in Albuquerque. They stayed as special guests at the shows in both cities—the first time Matt’s relatives had actually seen us in concert._

_Portland, Oregon_

_We were in Portland and Timmy’s mom and grandmother visited us. We had lunch at a seafood restaurant. Timmy’s mom asked him about girlfriends. “Mom!” he protested uselessly._

_Grandma Penelope came to the rescue. “Pshaw! He has plenty of time ahead of him to look for girls. Don’t rush him! I, for one, am in no hurry to see him grow up.”_

_Well, I don’t know about girlfriends giving you “grown up” status, but Timmy was glad for her protest._

_We met again after the show in the hotel lounge. We Innocents got non-alcoholic drinks, of course. Timmy, his mom, Penelope, and I talked of this and that. Matt and Patrick didn’t join in much. Sleepy Matt was resting his head on the bar. Patrick seemed to find something supremely fascinating about his soda, the way he was staring at it._

_Penelope is an interesting woman. She has gray hair like a grandmother should, but few wrinkles on her face—mostly around her eyes. She looks quite lean and young and healthy for someone who has a nearly grown grandson._

_When we stood up and prepared to go, she pinched Timmy’s cheek and said, “Don’t change, kiddo. Even if you do get married, keep some of that innocence.”_

_“Oh, I’ll stay innocent,” Timmy promised._

_“I—” She stopped suddenly. She has been going to casually say something and then she stopped._

_“What?” Timmy asked._

_“Nothing,” she told him, then contradicted herself by saying, “I just had the strange feeling I’m not going to see you again.”_

“Oh, you’ll be around for plenty more years, Grandma Penelope.”

_She looked confused. “No…I…” She shook her head. “Never mind. It was probably nothing. Just fear, I guess.”_

_So we parted, Penelope and Eunice for their home, and us for our hotel room._

Las Vegas

_I call this entry “Three Cherries and Four Innocents.” We were in Las Vegas to play at the Wellington Wager, owned by Monica’s father. Timmy enjoyed the slot machines. I overheard a conversation between him and Matt:_

_"Timmy, what are you doing?" Matt demanded, sounding shocked._

_"Honest, Matt, I've got a system," Timmy countered, slipping another coin into the slot machine._

_"Oh, don't give me anything about any system of most common numbers to show up or whatever."_

_"Huh?" Timmy was startled. "No, no, not that kind of system. What I meant is that I never play more than five dollars, and any money I win from that original five dollars. And I never make any exceptions, cause once you start doing that, you go into addiction."_

_Matt sighed. "Well, you make sure you don't make an exception to the rule of not making exceptions."_

_"Oh, I won't," Timmy reassured._

_"It's funny, man," Matt observed. "My parents raised me to believe gambling was a sin. And you, the king of guilt trips, don't have any problem with it."_

_"Well, there's an exception to everything," Timmy said. Seeing Matt's worried face, he explained, "I meant an exception to my guilt trips. Now you're always trying to get me off one, so don't put me on one."_

_"Okay, okay," Matt complied._

_Before Matt walked off to see what Patrick was doing, Timmy brought up one more point. "And there's one other rule I have."_

_"What's that?"_

_Timmy placed another quarter in the slot machine and pulled the handle. "Always stick with the same machine, cause as soon as you leave to try your luck with another machine, that's the turn that the three cherries would have come up on your original machine."_

_"That would figure," Matt agreed. He watched as Timmy pulled the arm down and pictures of fruit spun around. Three cherries weren't the final result, but a light shower of nickels rained from out of the machine. "Wow."_

_"That's only a couple of bucks," Timmy told him, spooning the coins out into a cup. "See, I could keep these, or I could play them, according to my rules. Even if I end up feeding all my coins back into the machine, at my original five dollars, I still had fun."_

_"Yeah, whatever," Matt said._

_A man stood over Timmy's shoulder, watching him as he played. Timmy didn't pay much attention at first, but it was obvious that he was becoming more and more uncomfortable. "Sir?" he inquired._

"Oh, nothing, just waiting my turn," the man said. Timmy glanced suggestively at the other slot machines, a few which were available to play. The man took his hint. "This is my lucky machine."

_"Oh, well, I only have a few coins left to play." He put one more in, and came up empty. The man was emitting very hostile vibes by this time. "Okay, okay, I'll go play one of the other machines."_

_"Thank you," the man said, and took Timmy's place. With his last two nickels, Timmy went to another machine in the parallel row, but glanced back at the impatient stranger. The man pulled the arm down, and three cherries fell into place._

_"Aaarrrghhh!" Timmy growled to himself, yanking down on the arm of his new machine without having placed any coins in the slot._

_"See, I told you it was lucky," the man remarked._

_I could just see Timmy's conscience fighting back his urge to give the stranger a sharp kick in the shin. "Congratulations," he said meekly._

_Later, we found out bad news. The Fig Leaves were also in town, playing another hotel! They thought it would be a big joke if they sent a hooker up our room. We took her in, talked to her, gave her a Fizzy Cola, but that’s all. By the end, we had her agreeing to go to church!_

_Reno_

_I don’t believe it! Larry had things all setup to record his and Mary’s concert tonight, and he recorded us, too! He says, you never know, a live performance of us on record might be in demand someday._

_Hawaii_

_We had an extra day in Hawaii. Timmy had looked up Maylea’s number the night before, and she and her surfer boyfriend Ted showed up to help Timmy adjust to the Hawaiian waves. Ted’s a few coconuts short of a tree. Timmy was a bit rusty—he hadn’t been on the California waves for a while, nonetheless the ones in Hawaii. The waves were chasing him like big, angry dogs biting at his heels._

_Then it happened—Timmy majorly wiped out and disappeared beneath the waves. We didn’t see him for what seemed like a few minutes, but probably was only a minute. We were all ready to plunge in after him when suddenly his head popped up, and he was sputtering. “Man, that’s enough for one day!”_

_That night, with Mary and Larry, and Maylea and Ted, we were at a luau. The lovely ethnic girls helped take Timmy’s mind off Maylea having a boyfriend. It doesn’t bother me to see an old date with a guy, but it makes Timmy a little sad and wistful in spite of his celibacy._

_Los Angeles_

_Our last concert was at the Hollywood Bowl, back in good ol’ California. After the concert, the four of us looked at each other backstage, and each let out a breath of air, as if we had just completed a day’s worth of hard labor._

_“Well, let’s go home,” Matt said. “See if it’s still there.”_

_“Wait!” cried Mary, popping up suddenly. “What about the wrap-up party?”_

_“Well, I dunno,” Matt began. “We’re tired—”_

_“There’ll be cake!”_

_“Cake!” Timmy exclaimed. “With frosting?”_

_Mary giggled. “Of course, silly! And soda and chips.”_

_“The salty, potatoey kind?” Patrick asked._

_Mary rolled her eyes. “You two! Yeah! There’ll be potato chips! C’mon!”_

_“Can we, Matt?” Timmy pleaded._

_Matt looked at me. I shrugged. “Oh, okay,” he agreed. “Just don’t eat the whole cake.”_

_Santa Virginia_

_After the party, Harold the limo driver brought us home. It was technically the next day._

_Matt turned on the light. “Everything looks strange,” Timmy remarked._

_“I’m gonna just go to sleep with my clothes on,” Patrick announced, stretching his arms in back of his head._

_“I didn’t notice you had been sleeping in the nude,” I remarked wryly._

_“Yeah, when did you start doing that?” Timmy joined in._

_Patrick was too exhausted to play along. “You know what I mean!” He marched up the stairs._

_Matt, Timmy, and I glanced over the house, making sure everything was in place. Timmy guzzled down a cola from the refrigerator. “Now you won’t be able to get to sleep,” I told him._

_He shrugged nonchalantly. “Never effects me.”_

_We went up to our bedroom. Patrick was lying face up on the bed, mouth hanging open, already asleep, not even having bothered pulling the sheet up over him. “True to his word,” I said. “In his street clothes.”_

_“He didn’t even take off his shoes!” Timmy pointed out._

_I sat down at the foot of my bed, “Well, fellas, we made it through our first tour. I think we can handle this fame and success thing.”_

_Matt, who had been mostly quiet since reaching home, spoke up. “Danny, this is just the tip of the iceberg.”_

_“I hope so, Matt, I hope so.” I pulled off one of my bowling shoes, the red and green one. The other one’s blue and yellow. “Well, I, for one, am not sleeping with my shoes on.”_


End file.
